Hide and Seek
by GhostAuthor
Summary: He had to be joking. She read the letter slowly a second time. He was serious. She was here fighting for her job, and he sent her a letter challenging her to a global version of hide and seek. Sequel to Stress Relief and Quiet Nights.*Takes place right after the shoot out at the fish market in the book.*
1. The Challenge

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Clarice Starling was beginning to hate the press. After nearly a week of flashing cameras and news reporters, she had half a mind to boycott all forms of journalism. One bad day forced her to become a prisoner in her own home. Not that she had anywhere to go, mind you, but walking around her house alone for days was driving her insane. Insane. At that word, Clarice started to laugh to herself. How many people thought that she was already?

Part of her could hear the whispers even through the walls. Her name was on the lips of every other person in the country all because of a situation she had no control over. The scene was still fresh in her mind even after a week. The smell of the fish and the sound of "Macarena" blaring from the car both flooded her senses from time to time, but most off all, the sight and feel of Evelda Drumgo's blood on the baby and her own hands came back to her and made her shiver.

Sometimes Clarice wondered what would have happened if she hadn't taken the shot. Would that have made a difference? No. John Brigham would still be dead, and she'd be in a casket next to him. She did, however, find irony in the fact that if she had died she probably would have been hailed as a hero. A woman that had served the bureau well and died in the line of duty. She would have been remembered as a brave agent of the law and nothing more just like her father.

It pained her to to admit those words, but she knew it was true. She'd given them years of faithful service, and now she was likely about to be canned because of bad press. People she'd fought for now branded her a murder. However, there was one person in the world she knew wouldn't judge her, and she couldn't even see him. The press and FBI had her under a microscope. There was no way for Hannibal to get to or contact her without her someone catching wind of it, and as much as she needed to talk to him, she wouldn't risk his capture. Though it would be nice to hear his opinion.

Clarice was broken from her thoughts by a knock on the door. Pushing herself up from her comfortable position on the couch in front of the fire, she headed for the door. Starling hissed as she stood. Some of her bruises still hadn't healed. Carefully, she peeked out of the window to see who was outside before answering.

To her relief, it was only the mailman, but she still spotted the reporter staking out her house in his car across the street. She signed for the letter sent by express mail and stared at the package for a moment. There was no return address. After carefully opening it, she pulled out an envelope with her name written elegantly on the front. Clarice began grinning ear to ear. The feel and smell of the envelope told her exactly who had sent it.

After taking a seat at her kitchen table, Clarice carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the two letters inside. She placed the second one aside and began reading the one on top.

_Dear Clarice,_

_As I am writing this, I can already imagine you reading it. You are probably sitting somewhere comfortable with a small smile upon your face. How I long to see it in person, but alas, fate has dealt us both a cruel hand. You undoubtedly already know the reason I will not be able to come visit this month, and you should know that it pains me as well. I had already picked out the wine I would bring._

At this, Clarice laughed. Leave it to Hannibal to plan things this far ahead.

_Though I do have a way to remedy this. You will come visit me. Now you are probably wondering where I am, but I will not tell you. The letter enclosed with this one is a false letter. Burn this one when you are finished reading it and turn the other in to your so called superiors. They will no doubt then give you the task on hunting me down there by saving your job and giving you the resources to track me. I have faith that you will be able to find me without any hints. I'll store the wine until you arrive._

_With all my love,  
Hannibal Lecter_

_P.S. Although the second letter is a false one, it does not make some of what is written any less true._

_Ta ta,  
H_

He had to be joking. She read the letter slowly a second time. He was serious. She was here fighting for her job, and he sent her a letter challenging her to a global version of hide and seek. Clarice didn't know whether to laugh or be angry with him. With a sigh, she then read the second letter and found it both reassuring and infuriating. Though false, there was no doubt that he'd written it.

Starling admired the drawing he'd sketched at the bottom of it as she returned to the living room with both letters and their envelope in hand. Setting the envelope and the second letter aside, she threw the first into the crackling fire. She watched the elegant paper slowly burn amongst the logs with a slight smile.

"_Alright Hannibal. I'll play your little game. Just know that when I find you I'm not letting go." _

_**FIN**_


	2. Clarice

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

After meeting Mason Verger for the first time, Clarice felt as though she needed a long shower. Something about that man made her skin crawl, and it wasn't his looks. She'd seen other victims look just as bad and worse than him. No. It was something about the way he spoke about Hannibal that didn't sit right with her, but she couldn't dwell on that now. Now, she had to go back to where it all began.

The hospital was now in ruin since it had closed after the disappearance of Dr. Chilton. Many wondered what had happened to the man after he went into hiding to escape Hannibal's wrath. Clarice knew the truth. He hadn't gotten far. Hannibal had told her himself what he'd done to Chilton during one of their meetings. After hearing about the horrors he'd put Hannibal through during his incarceration and remembering the sleazy come-ons he'd made during her first visit, Clarice had shrugged and dismissed it as if Hannibal had only killed a bug. Though she did find irony in the fact that it was Chilton's own pen that had helped make the homemade handcuff key Hannibal used to escape.

Searching through Chilton's desk and office yielded nothing useful, so she headed to the stairs that lead to the basement. Going down the stairs to the dungeon felt almost like coming home. Clarice finally reached the bottom level and saw the rows of cells. A chill went through her, and an image from seven years ago flashed in her mind. Gun and flashlight in hand, she carefully made her way down the corridor, avoiding the puddles of water. As she went, Clarice could not stop her eyes from drifting to the cell that had once belonged to the late Multiple Miggs but quickly pulled a way and kept going. She soon noticed the row of file cabinets and smiled, but something else soon caught her attention.

Hannibal's cell. A magnetic force seemed to draw her in and made her step inside. She stood in the middle of the small room and turned in a slow circle to admire to room. So was is all Hannibal had seen for eight years. Clarice suddenly felt claustrophobic. The though of being in the small from for a week seemed slightly terrifying. A normal man would go insane living in this stone box, but Hannibal was far from a normal man.

She remembered reading something before her first visit about how he had acted in court. The trial had taken two years because his lawyer kept trying to get him the reveal the location of the bodies in exchange for less time, but Hannibal refused to talk. Eventually, nine were found, and he got a life sentence for each one. He hadn't even flinched when the judge's gavel came down to hit the block, but the lawyer, who was getting rich and famous off of the trial, offered an insanity plea.

Hannibal himself had refused the claim, but the psychiatric tests proved otherwise. In the eyes of the state of Maryland, Hannibal Lecter was insane. Still, he took it in stride and agreed to the countless interviews and tests that followed. None of them ended particularly well, but no one was _physically _harmed for over a year. That was until his attack on the nurse. Clarice wasn't sure what was worse, the photo of the woman afterward or the video of the attack itself. Part of her had always wondered why.

That amount savagery required just enough control be to able to aim for the intended object. In this case, Hannibal had aimed for her tongue. She'd never asked him during her visits but once found the courage to bring it up when he visited. He'd been completely unashamed when he told her of how the nurse had frequently commented on both his sexuality and heritage. He'd listened to her words for a year until he lost the ability to tolerate her anymore. That was the last time they spoke of that incident, but it made Clarice believe even more in one of the first lessons she'd learned in the academy;the quiet ones were the most dangerous ones.

Hannibal had then remained quiet for seven years if you excluded his action towards Will Graham and his family during the Tooth Fairy case. He was a model prisoner until he met her. She still remembered the sight of hm standing before her in those prison blues telling her things about herself that she didn't want to hear. He was like a completely different now, and in away, so was she. Seven years had changed them both a great deal.

Clarice smiled to herself before exiting the cell. This chapter of their lives was over, and a new one was about to begin. First things first, she had to find him so that it could begin.

_**TBC**_


	3. Hannibal

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

Rinaldo Pazzi had been a dangerous man in life. Though, he hadn't been dangerous in the physical sense. Despite having been at least a head taller than him, Hannibal had easily held the cloth over the thrashing man's face. No, Rinaldo Pazzi had been dangerous because he'd known just a bit too much. One could only learn so much and live after all. It was a shame, too. His wife reminded Hannibal of Clarice, and she would no doubt be upset about her husband when she found out.

Clarice. Her name had been on his mind ever since he'd read what had happened. The _National Tattler _had wasted no time dragging her name through the mud, but Hannibal knew better than to believe the papers. He knew how well Clarice could aim, but she always used her gun as a last resort. His lioness would only harm another if threatened. He knew that without a doubt, but those fools in the FBI did not. They would never see her the way he saw her.

To Hannibal, Clarice Starling was something special. Despite what she believed, there wasn't a weak bone her in her body. She was a strong woman. She was far from what most would consider perfect, but that was what made her perfect to Hannibal. She had scars from her past, but he had scars of his own. To most, there were merely a couple of damaged people, but to him, they were a pair of survivors. With that in mind, Hannibal knew she would be fine eventually. All he had needed to do was give her incentive to get back up and prepare for her arrival.

However, the _Commendatore _had complicated things. He had called Mason Verger in order to get the cash reward. This changed things a great deal. Mason wanted him dead, and he would do anything to get his way. Thankfully, the media had done a good job at portraying the doctor as a sociopath. No one would suspect that he was going back to the states once he was finished in Florence, not even Clarice.

Part of Hannibal had told him not to go back to America, but he had to. He was sure he could easily avoid capture from both the FBI and Mason if he wanted, but if Mason got tired of waiting, he would likely use Clarice to draw him out again. That was something he could not allow. Clarice was far from a peaceful lamb. She'd proven that at the fish market. However if any harm ever came to Clarice because of Mason, their last meeting would seem plesant when he found him, FBI or not.

Now, he was back in America once more. After an extremely stressful flight, the good doctor had tried to rest both his mind and body. He failed. Something inside of him was still buzzing after killing Rinaldo Pazzi. Killing the former curator of the Palazzo Capponi had been a simple job. The death of the _Commendatore _was different. It had been a long time since he'd smelled the scent of fresh fear rolling off of a man.

That night had awoken the predator in Hannibal that had been dormant for seven years, and he was eager to hunt again. However, he also knew that he could only make one kill before people were alerted that he was in the states again. Sometimes he wondered how he'd been good for so long. Then he remembered the woman that had changed his life.

Clarice probably had heard the news by now and was likely upset with him. She would forgive him in time. He was, however, slightly sad about cutting their game short, but it was necessary. Both of their lives would be at stake if this wasn't handled soon. With a sigh. Hannibal rolled over in bed again. Tomorrow, he would go see Clarice and work out a plan. Enjoying the idea of seeing her again, the doctor closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

_**FIN  
**_


End file.
